Gone | hs

21-Coming Home

And the blood will dry

Underneath my nails

And the wind will rise up

To fill my sails

---

I look in the mirror and see the crazed girl starring back at me. Her wild silver eyes and crazy auburn hair keeps me from realizing that it's me. I turn the water faucet on and wash the blood off my hands- literally. It takes a while to get it out from under my nails but I'm soon back in my scratchy bed. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I'm coming home.

The sheets brush up against my legs and I try not to throw them off. They hold no warmth or comfort. The only thing I can do is fall into a dreamless sleep.

Seconds ago, it was dark in my shared room, but now, the sun persists in rising. I feel rested even though I've hardly slept in the past six months. Bells and sirens ring in the distance so I make myself stand after pushing the god-forsaken sheets away from my body.

I lace up my boots quickly and through a brown knit sweater on over my torso. We are required to wrap our breasts so they aren't a point of interest, which is completely idiotic.

I make my wall down white halls to the dinning room. I walk numbly through the food line and sit at an empty table. Isabelle and Josh aren't here so I don't know what the point is. They're both dead.

And it's partially my fault.

I eat my peaches and oatmeal quickly, hurrying back to my sleeping quarters to pack. All the special-unit forces are going back to the States today to spend the holidays with family and friends. I can almost see Harry. I can nearly picture his soft brown hair or his emerald green eyes. I can picture his pink, plump lips and the way he inhales after a kiss.

The returning troops are issued into their rooms to pack their few belonging and they leave shortly after lunch. I pull my tan duffle bag out from under my bed and put my few articles of clothing into it. I put the picture of Harry and I in last. It's a selfie we took together after surfing so many months ago. My hair sticks to my face and he resembles baby Tarzan. I smile and zip up the bag. It's 10 o'clock when everyone else returns to the room.

I'm sat with my hands cupping the back of my neck staring up at the ceiling. Low voices turn into obnoxious noises and I turn my head to see what the problem is. A group of other women stand around something in the middle of the room. Judging from the cheering and yelling, I'd say it's a fist fight.

The African American woman whom I spoke with on my first day stands in the middle of the circle in an offensive position. She throws a hard punch at a smaller girl with red hair. The red haired girl tries to back away but the surrounding troops idiotically push her back in. The African American girl, Raven, gives the other girl a bloody nose in no time and soon has her in the fetal position on the floor.

Pushing through the crowd, I stand myself between the two. Raven puts her fists down and smiles triumphantly.

"If she's gonna be here, she should learn to take a punch." Raven says, etching closer to me.

"Not from you." I'm surprised at my voice. It doesn't shake, but stands strong.

"Move out of the way, Grace." She sneers. I raise my eyebrows. Her buddies laugh from behind her. I look around the group and see the faces of girls who were too scared to do what I just did. No one stands up against Raven. You'll find yourself in an awful place.

My hands coil into fists, "If you want to punch someone for no reason, I'm right here." I say, defending the red haired girl.

Murmurs go throughout the crowd and I see someone else help the hurt girl up and away from the circle. We are soldiers. We represent out country. We are here to represent the women. This is not how we should act.

"Challenge accepted." Raven lunges at me with her hands extended into claws. She scratches at my face with her nails and I feel the skin break. Not long after that, I send a knee straight up into her gut. She staggers backward and clutches her stomach.

"You're lucky I don't have a knife right now, because I'd cut that attitude right out of you." Raven says defiantly.

"I have an attitude for sticking up for a fellow American soldier?" I question, fury rising behind my eyes.

"You have an attitude because you're a bitch." She says, and I lose it.

I take on step forward, and punch her straight in the nose. She yelps in pain and falls on her butt, clutching her freshly acquired bloody nose.

"If you're gonna be here, you should learn to take a punch." I grab my bag and walk out after that.

---

I sit in the commons area for two hours until lunchtime. I'm still furious. I can't help but tap my fingers against my knee and bob my knee up and down. It's been the longest day ever. I've been dreaming of actually making it home for months and it seems like this day is barely dragging on.

A faraway alarm informs me that the first plane back to the States is leaving soon. That's the one Harry should be waiting for.

Hopefully, that's the one I'll be on.

---

Hey! It's been a while. I've missed writing this story. Well, it's almost over....

About 3-6 more chapters then I'll be starting another or continuing one of my short stories.

I figured you guys would be bored with all the military chapters so I cut them out. Nothing spectacular happened.

Until next time,

Marilynskirt